


Parting Shot

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1998-07-31
Updated: 1998-07-31
Packaged: 2018-11-20 13:02:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11336085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: What happens when Krycek pays Mulder and Scully one last visit before disappearing for good.





	Parting Shot

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

Parting Shot by Melody

From Wed May 14 23:37:56 1997  
Title: Parting Shot  
Author: Melody <>  
Rating: NC-17  
Classification: MSR  
Posting date: 5-15-97  
Archive and distribution: Wherever you want, as long as the story remains intact and my name, e-mail, and disclaimer with it.  
Summary: Alternate universe follow-on to the storyline from Brenda Antrim's stories "The Deal" and "The Bait". What happens when Krycek pays Mulder and Scully one last visit before disappearing for good.  
Spoilers: None.  
Disclaimer: We all know it by heart, don't we? Just in case--Characters and situations from the X-Files, including Mulder, Scully, Skinner, and Krycek, are the property of Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, and Fox Television, and are used without permission. The story, however, is mine.   
Author's Notes: This is my own "alternate universe" continuation of the story-line developed by Brenda Antrim in her stories "The Deal" and "The Bait". (And yes, I got Brenda's permission before I posted this!) It probably isn't necessary for you to read them in order to understand what's going on in my story, but I've included a brief encapsulation of them anyway.  
In "Deal", Krycek kidnapped Mulder to use as a hostage to get Scully and Skinner to agree to NOT go after him until he had time to deal with the characters the Cancer Man was sending after him. While he had him, though, Krycek couldn't resist the temptation to take advantage of a side effect the drugs he used on Mulder caused, and had sex with the out-of-it agent.  
In "Bait", Krycek can't resist doing it again, and this time kidnaps Scully to force Mulder's knowing cooperation. Tinkering with the drug mix, though, made Mulder more violent and he dominated the encounter----with Scully unwillingly watching in another room. Mulder doesn't know she saw, and she's never admitted it.  
Oh, yeah, I almost forgot. In this 'universe', Krycek has only recently escaped the silo where Cancerman left him, no thanks to any militiamen (he followed the alien out-- did you really expect it to *stay* locked up once it got back in its ship??). It wasn't *our* Krycek that went to Russia with Mulder and lost his arm, that was an evil doppleganger...!  
This is also my first NC-17 story. I was chicken to post it, but my cyberfriend beta-readers Deborah Wells and Steph Lutz said I should go for it. All comments and criticism are welcome at the e-mail address above. <deep breath...> Here goes...

* * *

"Parting Shot" (NC-17)  
by Melody <>

Rural highway in central Kansas  
Early Spring  
Just after Midnight

Mulder drove carefully on the dark, rain slicked highway. He was tired. This new assignment had come in just this morning---was it still Friday?--- and even though they'd just gotten back from a grueling two-week-long case that had worn them down, this case was given priority. Someone wanted action immediately.

Beside him in the rented vehicle Scully dozed. He smiled faintly, wondering how she kept her neck straight without leaning against the door. Maybe in some situations being a little on the short side was an advantage. He still had a stiff neck from falling asleep on the plane.

He squinted to read a road sign through the rain and saw they were nearly to their destination. It was a tiny town, somewhere in the vast emptiness of Kansas. They'd flown in to Kansas City late this afternoon and had been driving for hours. Mulder wondered what had happened to get them pulled into this. They hadn't been given much information yet, supposedly someone here would brief them first thing in the morning.

A reduced speed limit sign was the first indication they'd reached the town. Then a few houses, nearly all dark, appeared along either side of the road. A further few minutes and he was slowing the car again for what apparently was the town center---the highway widened to a broad street, with businesses arranged on either side for about three blocks. Ahead was what appeared to be the main intersection with a single flashing yellow light suspended above its center. Beyond that a railroad crossing, with no gates, could barely be seen.

Mulder slowed the car to turn right at the flashing yellow light, and Scully roused. Blinking, she looked out at the dark old-fashioned buildings. 

"Is this it?" she asked, her voice a little husky from sleep.

"Um-hmm," Mulder replied. "Not much of a town, is it?"

"Where are we going now?"

"There's supposed to be a motel up this road..." Mulder broke off as a small cluster of lights became visible. A small 24-hour gas and convenience store sat on one side of the road. A small but new-looking motel was directly across the street.

Mulder suddenly felt uneasy.

<It's just because you're not used to places that roll up the sidewalks at ten o'clock>, he tried to reassure himself. Still, he had an itchy feeling between his shoulder blades. As if someone was watching him. <I'm too tired.>

The headlights swept over a surprising number of cars as Mulder turned into the motel lot. Well, maybe not so surprising, as it was the only motel he'd seen in the past two and a half hours. He left the car idling when he stopped in front of the office. Only a faint light shone from the window. Mulder glanced at his watch and found it was nearly one a.m. With a sound that was part sigh and part moan, he pushed his door open.

"I'll get the rooms, Scully," he said. "No sense in both of us getting wet."

There was no way to keep from getting soaked on his brief dash to the office door. He half expected it to be locked, but the knob turned easily. The tiny room beyond held a counter that guarded a door in the opposite wall, and a small table under the window held a coffeepot and accouterments. A framed print of a Monet painting was the only decoration on the walls other than a calendar from a local bank. A hand bell sat on the counter and he eyed it skeptically. Then he noticed a small button, like a doorbell, on the wall at one end. The switch plate had "night call" written on it in marker. He took a step forward to press it and felt his wet shoes slip slightly on the tile.

It took about five minutes for the other door to open, and a short heavyset man came through. He peered at Mulder through thick glasses, obviously thinking the suited man looked out of place.

"Sorry to wake you," Mulder apologized. "My partner and I need rooms for the rest of the night."

"Two rooms?" the man asked.

"Yeah."

"Would a double be okay? I only got one room left. 'S got two double beds."

Mulder gritted his teeth and sighed. There wasn't another town--or motel---for miles. Scully wasn't going to be thrilled, but there was nothing else available. Just his normal luck. Maybe the full parking lot was what had triggered his earlier uneasiness. "Okay, it'll have to do."

A few minutes later he made the dash back through the pouring rain, his fingers fisted around the single key. As soon as the car door was shut he handed it to Scully.

"There's only one room left, but it's got two double beds. We either share or one of us spends the night in the car." If he wasn't so tired he would have smiled at the face Scully made. If she hadn't been exhausted she wouldn't have done it.

"We share. I could sleep on a bed of nails at this point." Mulder grinned and she paused. Then, realizing what she'd said, she groaned.

"Very pun-ny, Scully."

She shot him a venomous look as he put the car back in gear to pull around to their room. As soon as the car stopped she got out and went to unlock the door while he got their bags from the trunk.

"You can have the bathroom first," she said as soon as the door was closed. She dropped her coat on the end of the far bed and stepped out of her low-heeled pumps. Mulder put the cases on the beds, opened his and pulled out his kit, and went into the bathroom. He used the facilities, washed his face and brushed his teeth, and was back in the room a few minutes later to let Scully take her turn. She took a pair of pajamas and a cosmetic bag in with her. Mulder rooted through his suitcase to find a T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants to sleep in. He normally didn't bother, but then again he normally didn't share a room with his partner. He stripped off his suit coat and slacks and hung them up on the motel hangers. They were more wet than damp and he hoped they'd dry before morning. In the rush to make their flight this morning he'd left his all-weather trenchcoat laying on his desk, and his summer-weight suit wasn't exactly water-resistant. Moving his shoes and holster and putting his gun under the pillow, Mulder dropped onto the bed nearest the door. With one eye he looked at the TV, debating for a scant minute about turning it on. Then he closed his eyes and stretched out. He was asleep in minutes.

Scully came out of the bathroom a few moments later. Too tired to bother with a shower, she'd changed into her man-style pajamas, brushed her teeth, and washed her face. She was a little suprised to find Mulder already asleep. He'd gone to sleep on top of the covers. With a small smile she pulled the other side of the bedspread over him, then quietly hung up her own suit, turned off the light and felt her way onto the other bed. Just as she went to sleep she wondered if Mulder had remembered to leave a wake-up call.

                                       ...xXx...xXx...xXx...

Mulder woke suddenly, disoriented for a few seconds until he remembered where he was. A few feet away the sheets rustled as Scully turned over in bed. Was that what woke him? The unaccustomed sounds of someone else sleeping in the same room? Probably. He pressed the button on his watch to light the face and found it was only a quarter till three. Hopefully he'd at least be able to go back to sleep.

It wasn't going to be quite that easy, he decided a few minutes later. Scully was making a soft sighing noise in her sleep and it was getting to him. Not that it was loud or anything... No. It was just that it was somehow... suggestive. It made him wonder things he shouldn't; like, what was she dreaming about? And would she make sounds like that while she was making love?

He'd get up and get a drink, maybe that would help. If nothing else maybe the slight disturbance would make her roll over or something, and she'd stop making that sound. It wasn't until he sat up that he realized he'd gone to sleep on top of the bedspread, and Scully had pulled it up around him. <Good, Mulder. > he thought as he felt his way into the bathroom. <You're 36 years old and you can't put yourself to bed?> He wondered, not for the first time, why Scully put up with him.

Closing the bathroom door he flipped on the light, blinking in the sudden brilliance after the Stygian blackness. He used the toilet, then wrestled a plastic cup out of it's plastic wrapper <Isn't this overkill?> to get a drink. He'd only taken one swallow before a sudden loud thudding made him drop it in the sink.

Someone was beating on the door of the room! Yanking open the bathroom door, Mulder reached automatically for his gun, only belatedly remembering it was still under his pillow on the other side of the room. Time seemed to skew into slow motion... Mulder took a step toward his bed and his gun, Scully began to sit up in her bed and look toward the source of the noise, and the outside door to the room gave in with a crash, bouncing on the safety chain. A black-gloved hand thrust into the opening with a large, odd looking gun-- pointing at Scully...

"Scully! Get down!!" Mulder shouted, diving for the door. Scully's eyes widened and she lunged for the side of the bed, but before she was down she jerked as something struck her shoulder. She fell behind the bed and stayed there. Ice cold fear and rage hit Mulder at the same time. Another step and he launched himself at the door with a growl. Something hit his thigh, tripping him up, and the door slammed shut an instant before he reached it. He grabbed the knob and yanked but the door didn't move. The knob turned, though. Somehow the door was barred from the outside. A step to the side and he yanked aside the curtain-- to find the window was glass block. No visibility; no opening. No way out.

A sound behind him had Mulder whirling, to find Scully pulling herself up off the floor on the other side of her bed. A small red-tipped dart still clung to her shoulder. A very familiar-looking dart. A sinking feeling hit with the recognition. Remembering the blow to his leg, Mulder found an identical dart embedded in his flesh. Oh, god. Krycek. They had to get out of this room.

He found the lamp and switched it on, searching frantically for the phone. It wasn't on the table between the beds. It wasn't next to the TV. There wasn't one in the room. Fresh fear trickled cold inside his chest. Throwing the dart across the room in frustration, he began to swear savagely under his breath and headed for the door again. Maybe he could break it down...

He didn't hear Scully calling his name the first several times, not until the fear in her voice finally registered. He sagged against the door, panting from exertion, only now beginning to feel the pain in his hands and shoulder. Scully hovered a few feet away, concern on her face and fear in her eyes.

"Mulder! Mulder, calm down, you're scaring me. What's wrong? What are these?" She was holding out the dart in the palm of her hand. 

Mulder felt nauseous. God knew what sick game Krycek was playing this time. He tried to turn away so Scully couldn't read his face, but he was too late. Her hand clutched his arm.

"You know what was in these, don't you." 

Mulder hesitated, then shook his head. "Not for sure, Scully."

"But you can guess?"

"Yeah, I think I can guess."

"What does Krycek have to do with this?"

That brought his head around fast. "Who mentioned Krycek?" he demanded.

"You did! When you were battering the door, you were cursing Krycek. Why? What's going on, Mulder?"

Mulder turned his face away from Scully's searching eyes, looking blankly at the floor between his bare feet. He could already feel the effects of the drug cocktail swirling through his system, and nearly didn't register the small white rectangle on the carpet. A note. From under the door? He bent and snatched it up, noticing his name scrawled in Krycek's handwriting on the front, confirming what he'd already suspected. The single sheet of paper held a short message.

    Fox,

    The Bastard thought he buried me in that damned silo but I   
    found a way out. I'm no fool; I have arranged to disappear  
    and I won't be back. Found I still had some of my brew mixed   
    up, though, and knowing how you feel about your partner I   
    thought I'd put it to good use. Think of it as my farewell   
    gift to you both. Have fun--

It was signed with a sylized K. 

Mulder crumpled it and threw it across the room. 

"Farewell gift, my ass. More like a parting shot," he muttered. He turned to lean his forehead against the door, fists on either side of his head. "We have to get out of here, Scully, and fast." He took a deep breath, wondering how to explain without telling her everything. "He used drugs on me, those times. They have a ..peculiar.. effect on me, and it could be dangerous for you to be near me."

"I know." 

He thought she was trying to humor him, and he smiled grimly. "Believe me, Scully, you have no idea!"

"Yes, I do, Mulder. I-- The time he kidnapped me, I... saw. He had a camera and monitor set up. I could see... everything."

"Oh, god," Mulder breathed, unsure whether to be humiliated, embarrassed or angry. Ruthlessly he shoved the emotions down. He couldn't think about it now. Right now he had to find some way out of this room.

"The darts... They had the drugs he used on you... those times... in them?"

"Yeah. I think so. Do you have your cell-phone?"

Scully groaned. "It's in the car, on the charger. The battery was dead. We weren't in DC long enough for you to get yours replaced, were we?"

Mulder shook his head, then turned around and strode to his bed. When he pulled his gun out from under his pillow Scully wasn't sure what to think. His hands were shaking and --just for a moment--she was frightened. Then he popped the clip out of the gun and emptied the chamber, dropping the gun on her bed. He was beginning to sheen with sweat, and was tugging at his T-shirt like it was uncomfortable. "I don't know if the drugs he used will affect you, Scully, but I know--and I guess you saw-- what they do to me... It might be a good idea for you to unload your gun, too, just in case. You keep the guns, and I'll keep the clips." She nodded and did as he suggested, unloading her own gun and handing him the clip. 

He turned suddenly and began scooping up all the pillows and tossing them into the bathroom, then repeating the process with the blankets and quilted bedspreads. Scully watched, puzzled. "What are you doing?"

"There's a lock on the bathroom door, Scully. The only one available at the moment that we can put between us. You're going to have to lock yourself in there until this stuff wears off," he explained jerkily. He tried to force a cocky grin, but wouldn't look at her. "You might use earplugs if you have them." When she just stood staring, he growled, glaring at her with eyes that had gone dark and wild. "I suggest you move your ass." Scully scooped up the two guns hurried into the bathroom, locking herself in.

For a while they were quiet. Scully made a makeshift pallet from the bedding and settled down on it to wait, reluctant to move around more than was necessary. Her skin was beginning to feel sensitive, tingly. She was getting too warm. 

In the bedroom she could hear Mulder start to pace. From the outside door to the far wall, from the wall back to the outside door. Back and forth. Back and forth, over and over. Then there was a pause and a creak as he sat on one of the beds and the TV came on. Sounds of channel surfing, pausing on a weather station, then an infomercial; women personalities selling a line of cosmetics--. More surfing. Sounds of a car chase, tires squealing and guns popping. <What's he looking for?> Porno, she decides. Just his luck this motel didn't have an adult channel. Poor Mulder. He was going to explode. Sweat trickled between her breasts and she blotted it with the tail of her pajama top. It was too hot in here... She shucked her pajama bottoms, kicking aside the annoyingly scratchy blankets, too. In the bedroom Mulder groaned--she could hear it, barely, above the TV sound. He sounded tortured. How long had she been in here? Minutes? It seemed like hours. Her nipples hardened, ached, and she rubbed at them absently. A thud against the wall next to the door startled her, and she scrambled to it on her knees. Pressing her ear to the crack she strained to listen. Nothing. The TV was all she could hear.

"Mulder?" she called hoarsely. "Mulder, are you alright?"

"This is a lot more fun with visual aids." Mulder's voice, which usually reminded her of chocolate, was all velvet and gravel. The soft flesh between her legs responded to the sound and began to throb. "Oh, God, Scully," he moaned, "I'm on fire."

He sounded very close and she realized he was sitting on the floor leaning against the bathroom door. She heard him groan and begin to swear. Scully found herself pressing against the door, her pajama top hanging loose over her breasts although she didn't remember unbuttoning it. She could hear movement now, and in her mind's eye she could see Mulder with Krycek again. Even drugged--or perhaps because of it--Mulder had been the dominant one, magnificent to watch. She remembered how the light had glistened on the straining bodies of the two well-honed males, highlighting the play of the muscles beneath their skin. Mulder had been rough with Krycek, killingly angry with him and afraid for her own life. She'd been both frightened and fascinated by this new facet of her partner.... She could hear his breathing now, harsh and ragged. Heard a gasping cry, and bit back a sob of her own, giving in to urgent need and sliding her fingers beneath her sodden panties. She no more than touched herself and she came. She bit her lip, trying not to make a sound, but Mulder seemed to hear anyway.

"Scully?" His voice was still low and rough, with only a small degree of the tension missing. "Scully, are you all right?"

"No." Was that her voice? It didn't sound like her. "Mulder.... The drugs from the dart-- they're affecting me, too." Mulder started swearing again, using words Scully had never heard him use before. She almost smiled. She didn't know what a couple of them meant....she'd have to ask him... She was throbbing, aching, and she didn't have enough hands to ease all the needs. Mulder was moving, pacing again, this time between the beds and the bathroom door. He kept pausing in front of the door and Dana watched the knob, almost expecting it to turn. She knew he carried a lockpick and knew quite well how to use it. She almost wished he would now. Almost. Her eyes lost focus, then caught on the counter. Mulder's travel kit was still sitting there. She reached for it, nearly dumped it on the floor pawing through it. Ah, yes. Mulder carried a box of condoms. It was open, but only a few were missing. Staring down at the foil packets in her hand, she lost her grip on the bag and it crashed to the floor. Instantly Mulder was banging on the door. 

"Scully, what was that? Are you okay?"

"I -- I just dropped something." She had to think. She pressed her head against the door. "I can't handle this, Mulder. It's too much. If... If I come out there, could you.... Can you... not hurt me?"

She heard him stroke his fingers along the door, almost felt it against her skin.

"I would never hurt you deliberately, Scully, but I can't-- I can't promise." His voice was beyond rough now. "If you watched before... you saw what this shit does to me...." he broke off, going rigid as the lock popped. The door opened. "Dana..." he whispered.

Scully stood before him wearing only the loose pajama top and panties. The top was hanging open, revealing her breasts, their tips rosy and swollen. Her thin silk panties were transparent with moisture. Her hair was tousled from running her fingers through it, and her lips were pink where she'd chewed on them.

Mulder was naked.

                          ...xXx...xXx...xXx...

He took a deep breath, his nostrils flaring, and he slowly forced himself to take a step backwards. He was afraid to let himself reach for her, afraid he would lose control and do something he'd never forgive himself for. But Scully followed, matching him step for step, backing him toward the beds.

He saw the packets in her hands, the glazed desire in her eyes, and bit back a curse. <Not like this, not like this...> "This is not a good idea, Scully. I have no control, and you're not very big. I could hurt you..."

"Then... let me do it. Just lie down-- hold onto the headboard... Don't let go." She twisted the foil packets, tearing one free, and took another step towards him.

Mulder felt helpless, and torn. Part of him wanted to do as she suggested-- he wanted her desperately. He always had, but this was torture. The other side of him wanted to protect her from him, lock her away until these drugs wore off and he was no longer a danger to her... The drugs were powerful, though, and he lacked the strength to fight both them and his own desire. So he did as she asked. He laid down on his bed, took tight rein on all the control he could muster, and reached over his head to grip the twisted iron bars of the headboard. Then he resolutely closed his eyes. Right now he couldn't look and not touch.

For one long minute Dana just stood and looked down at Mulder, gloriously naked on the bed. She'd seen him nude before, of course, but when he was hurt, unconscious, helpless. This was wildly different. His body was healthy and taunt and aroused, and she'd never wanted a man so much in her life. It crossed her mind, fleetingly, that if she was honest she'd admit at least to herself that the feeling wasn't entirely due to the drugs... She couldn't wait any longer. Her hands were shaking so badly that she had to resort to using her teeth to tear open the packet. Mulder jerked when she touched his thigh, then pressed up against her hand as she held him steady to roll the condom on. He was throbbing---and so was she. Without another thought she stripped off her underwear and climbed onto the bed, straddling him in one lithe motion. Neither of them needed or wanted preliminaries. 

Mulder gave a low keening moan as she eased herself down over him slowly, bit by bit, sheathing him in velvet fire. His body twitched; Scully felt his legs move and knew he was fighting the urge to thrust up against her. The muscles of his shoulders and arms corded and his knuckles went white with the effort. He was breathing raggedly, almost panting. With a sob she pressed herself down harder, feeling the burn as her body stretched to accommodate his rigid maleness. She bent at the waist to let her hands run up over his torso to his shoulders, and she began to move.

Oh, god, it felt good. For the first few minutes he kept rigidly still, letting her set the rhythm. It wasn't something he could keep up indefinitely, though, and with a muffled groan he began to move. Beneath her his hips pumped, surging up to meet her downward movements. Scully trailed her hands across his chest, watching the play of muscles as he strained to keep his body in check. His eyes were open to bare slits, his jaw was clenched, and his breathing was ragged, but he was letting her be in control. Suddenly, more than anything, she wanted him to lose his.

She found his small male nipples and stroked them, rubbing them, pinching gently until they pebbled like her own. Mulder growled her name in warning, his hands twisting on the headboard. She leaned over further, letting the tips of her breasts brush his chest, and ran her hands up his arms to his wrists. She tugged, but he was gripping so hard his arms felt like iron.

"Let go, Mulder," she urged. "I want you to touch me."

"No!" he protested. "No, Scully. I might hurt you."

"You won't hurt me, Mulder. You couldn't." She bent her head and pressed a kiss against his neck. "Please... I want to feel you touch me." He quivered beneath her, then his arms relaxed slightly. Slowly his hands released their tight grip and moved, coming to rest on her hips briefly, then sliding upward until he cupped her breasts. His thumbs brushed across her puckered nipples and she caught her breath on a gasping sob.

Mulder needed no more encouragement. Set free, his hands kneaded the soft mounds of Scully's breasts until she was writhing against him, then he continued on to explore the rest of her soft skin. Up across her collarbone, over her shoulder, to the back of her neck beneath her fiery hair. His hands closed convulsively, using fistfuls of hair to tug her down to his mouth. The kiss was hungry, hot, stealing her breath, then his mouth drifted to dance across her face, down her neck. His hands slid down her back to brace her and he curled to reach her breasts. The scrape of his teeth sent her over the first mind-boggling edge with a cry.

Scully could barely hear over the pounding of her blood. Mulder was saying something--

"Are you a screamer, Scully?" he was asking. 

 Oh, no, she recognized that tone, even in his newly sandpapered voice. Yes, even through the fog of desire she could tell he had that unholy gleam in his eyes that meant something had caught his interest. It both frightened and thrilled her to realize *she* was the object of that interest. "Um, no...I don't think so..."

Mulder grinned-- the most wicked grin she'd ever seen. "Let's find out, shall we?" he murmured. He curled again until he was sitting, rocked first to one side, then the other -- and suddenly he was sitting on his heels with her still astride him. Scully gasped in surprise and at the sensation of her own weight pushing him deeper. Her hands clutched his shoulders even though his arms were strong around her. One large hand slid up her back to cradle the nape of her neck. The other went lower, to spread across the small of her back -- his *spot* -- and press her more firmly against him. Her fingers curled convulsively, helplessly.

"Easy, love. Just let go... Lean back on my arms," his voice murmured softly. "Trust me, Scully. I won't let you fall."

*Trust me, Scully...* Yes, she trusted him, more than anyone else. Slowly she relaxed her hands and felt his strong arms take her weight with ease. Her head lolled back against his supporting hand as she watched his face from beneath her lashes. He was so intense...

Her pajama shirt apparently annoyed him; he stripped it off her so quickly she had no time to object or help. His eyes were dark with passion as they surveyed the creamy skin now completely revealed, and his cheeks were slightly flushed. He was breathing fast and deeply, his mouth slightly parted. Even as she watched he ran his tongue slowly over his lips.

"Umm, Scully, you look good enough to eat."

One arm held her and supported her head; the other began to roam. He touched her face, running a finger down her cheek, along her jaw, to grasp her chin gently and tip her mouth up to meet his own. The hand continued it's journey as he deepened the kiss, sliding down her neck, tracing her collarbone. Down to her breasts...

Scully arched, trying to increase the pressure of his hand against her. His touch was like fire but she wanted more, craved more. 

A shudder ran through Mulder's long body, and his mouth left hers to gasp for air as he began to move. Slowly and gently, at first, he rocked them together. An inarticulate sound of masculine pleasure blended with a feminine groan, and his strokes grew deeper, longer. His grip on her shifted and tightened. He arched her backward over his arm and lowered his head to her breasts again.

A low sound reached Mulder's ears, and when he realized what it was it nearly sent him over the edge. Scully was making that sighing sound she'd made in her sleep earlier, but now there was a breathy catch to it as he pushed them higher. The closer she got, the louder, throatier the sound got. He was close--so close... he didn't want to go alone... He slipped a hand between them, through the red-gold curls to the hidden nub, and stroked. She cried out, writhing against him, but he wanted more. Swiftly he rolled them forward, pinning her to the mattress with his weight, and thrust into her hard and fast and deep. Again and again and again, trembling with the effort of holding back, until at last Scully convulsed with a strangled scream. A raw cry tore from his own throat as he exploded with exquisite pleasure-pain. Fighting for air, he barely had the strength to roll them sideways before he collapsed.

For long minutes all either of them could do was breathe.

"A screamer, Scully," he murmured when he'd regained his breath. He chuckled. "I would never have imagined it."

"Tell anyone, Mulder, and I'll shoot you again -- four inches lower and to your right."

He pretended to shudder. "Oooh, Scully, in the heart? I'm hurt!"

"Well...," she played along, pretending to reconsider as she nuzzled his neck. "I *could* aim a lot lower-- like here." A small hand cupped him and squeezed gently. Heat flooded through him and he felt himself instantly harden. Scully's breath caught in surprise as he rolled her beneath him. One hand in her hair held her still for his kiss, the other reached for the abandoned strip of foil... Desire raged out of control once again.

                          ...xXx...xXx...xXx...

Mulder woke first. According to his watch it was nearly noon, though little light was coming in around the curtains. It was still raining.

He had a headache of colossal proportions, reminiscent of the worst sort of hangover, and his mouth was as dry as a bone. Sitting up very cautiously he surveyed the room through barely-focused eyes.

It looked as if a tornado had hit. Sheets, blankets, and pillows were strewn across both beds and the carpet, and empty foil packets littered the floor. They'd used them all, he recalled, even the two in his wallet. And after they were gone they just hadn't worried about it.

Scully was going to kill him... He found her in the bed beside him, asleep on her stomach with her face turned away from the window, toward him. She was almost completely uncovered, the sheet having slid off the bed, so he was able to see and touch her skin. Gently he skimmed a hand down her back, pausing to cup one perfect buttock, feeling the tide of desire rise again. Christ, he couldn't blame it on the drugs now. They'd worn off hours ago. How on earth were they going to go back to what they'd been before?

He crept off the bed and found his sweatpants in the debris of the room, pulling them on swiftly. He covered the still-sleeping form of his partner <lover!> with a sheet and a blanket, then haphazardly spread the other bedding on the empty bed. He gathered their discarded clothing and put it in a pile. He took a few more minutes to pick up all the pieces of foil and put them in the garbage before heading to the bathroom. A quick hot shower made him feel almost normal, then he shaved and brushed his teeth. The mirror revealed a few teeth and nail marks Scully had left on him, as well as bruises on his shoulder and hands from trying to break the door down. A shirt would cover most of them, though, except for his hands. They were swollen slightly and sore but there was little discoloration. With any luck Scully wouldn't notice them at all.

He rooted through his bag for jeans and a put on a dark green shirt. He wasn't worried about dressing the part of an FBI agent today. It looked like this whole trip had been a set-up. Before he closed his suitcase he thought for a moment and pulled a clean blue T-shirt out, leaving it on the bed near Scully. She might want something handy to put on when she woke up.

The outside door opened easily when he quietly tried it, although when he inspected it from the outside he found marks where it had been fastened shut the night before. Checking once more on the sleeping Scully, he closed the door gently and headed across the road to the convenience store.

Half an hour later Mulder was sitting quietly on the end of the bed Scully slept in, sipping slowly at a cup of coffee. A box on the TV held a couple of donuts and a fruit and cereal bar, in case Scully felt like eating when she woke; an insulated cup of coffee and a carton of orange juice sat alongside. He'd tried eating a donut but it had nearly made him sick. His headache was starting to fade, now, though. Thank goodness for convenience stores and aspirin.

Behind him he heard the sheet rustle, felt the bed move slightly. Scully was starting to wake up. What was he going to do?

Scully groaned and pulled her elbows up beneath herself, rubbing her head with one hand as she tried to pry her eyes open. She ached all over, and for a moment wondered if she might be coming down with the flu... Then her memory cleared. Last night; the noise, the strange gun, darts; Mulder going nuts trying to tear the door down... Making love. All night. Oh God.

She turned her head, wincing at the sudden throb of headache, and found Mulder sitting at her feet. His back was to her and he was sipping -- coffee, by the scent of it, and watching the images flickering on TV with the sound turned off. She froze, not knowing what to say or do.

"There's coffee, orange juice, and aspirin if you want it," Mulder's voice was soft but still hoarse and the sound of it sent shivers up her spine.

"Mulder..." she began, then stopped. Her voice was ruined, almost completely gone; and besides, what was she going to say? Mulder turned then, and she saw the new guilt in his eyes. Damn.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly.

She nearly winced in the process of sitting up. "I'm fine, I think. Ask me again later." The ghost of a smile touched Mulder's lips as he watched her make a half-hearted grab for the slipping sheet, then spot his T-shirt and pull it on. Her hands went back to her head. "I could definitely use a couple of aspirin, though. Does your head hurt, too?"

"It did," he said as he stood to get the bottle of tablets and coffee for her. "It's easing up now since I took the aspirin." He sat gingerly on the edge of the bed and held out the tablets, watched her take them, her movements unusually slow and careful. "A hot shower helps some, too."

She curled over on her side to rest her head back on a pillow. "How long have you been up?"

He consulted his watch, more to get his eyes off her than to check the time. "About an hour."

"Mulder..." she trailed off, unsure of what she meant to say, until he turned to look at her again. The regret she saw on his face somehow hurt her. "Mulder, don't be sorry," she urged, unconsciously reaching to touch his arm.

His eyes dropped to her hand and his posture softened, a smile played around his lips. "Scully..." He broke off and took her caressing hand in one of his, reaching with the other to gently brush a stray lock of fiery hair away from her still-swollen lips. His eyes were dark and serious. "I could never be sorry for making love with you," he finally admitted quietly. "I just wish it hadn't been under these circumstances."

Scully blinked eyes bright with tears. Her hands were starting to shake and she did her best to still them, not wanting Mulder to see. "Me, too," she agreed, and realized her voice was quivering, too. The trembling spread in spite of her best efforts to quell it. 

Mulder leaned closer in concern. "Scully, you're shaking! Are you okay?" The concern accentuated the roughness in his voice this morning, sending another shiver along her body. His concern degenerated into worry, and he began to murmur to her. "Shh, it's okay, Scully. It's going to be all right..."

She blinked once, then kept her eyes shut, fighting the urge to cry. Her head ached abominably and she was sore all over, but her rebellious body was catching fire yet again-- just from his voice! She couldn't handle this right now. She craved the feel of his arms around her again, if only for a little while.

"Mulder... I'm sorry." It was hard to get the words out. A single hot tear leaked from beneath her lashes. "My head... Could you...hold me? Please?"

He was beside her in an instant, pulling her against his body, cocooning her in his warmth. She clung to him, fighting helpless tears. He pulled the blanket up around her and held her tightly, murmuring soft words she didn't have the energy to understand.

She had no idea how long they stayed that way. Long enough for the aspirin to work, anyway.

Mulder was quiet now, but one hand continued to draw soothing circles on her back. At least they were meant to be soothing. That wasn't quite the effect it was having on Scully now. She moved against him, frustrated to find him fully clothed except for his shoes.

The stroking ceased with her movement, then his hand slid lower to press her tight against him. He groaned deep in his throat as she moved again -- and found him hard as a rock.

An awful thought crossed Scully's mind.

"Mulder-- The drugs--"

"Not the drugs," Mulder reassured her, pressing her onto her back, rising over her and sliding one denim-clad thigh between hers. He caught the weight of his upper body on his elbows, but his groin rested heavy against her. "Just you." He moved against her and Scully arched into him helplessly, her moan trailing off into a series of pithy curses. Mulder chuckled even as he stopped them with a heated kiss.

He broke it long moments later, resting his forehead against hers, breathing heavily. "We can't, Scully." She nodded agreement, eyes still shut, and he eased himself away from her.

"You didn't buy any more?" she asked after a few breaths.

"I didn't think of it," he admitted, "I thought you were more likely to want to kill me, anyway." They laid silent, side by side, not quite touching.

"Last night wasn't entirely due to the drugs, Mulder," Scully ventured, finally daring to tell the truth. "It was something I'd thought about before. I just never had the...courage... to do anything before." She heard his head turn on the pillow, and turned to give him a faint smile. "Sometimes, when you tossed off those suggestive remarks, I hoped you meant them."

"Sometimes I did," he admitted.

Scully turned back to stare up at the textured ceiling. She took a deep breath and attempted to get herself into a professional mind-set--- not easy to do when all she was wearing was her partner's shirt, and he was lying next to her. "The case we were sent out here for was a fake?" she asked.

"It looks that way. While I was out I called the locals; no one here called in the FBI for anything."

"What are we going to do?"

"Call Skinner and tell him. Go back to DC, I guess."

Scully sat up, turned to face him. Mulder sat up, too, dropping one foot to the floor and bending the other leg to get comfortable. She couldn't believe how badly she still wanted to touch him. She dropped her eyes to her lap.

"Are we still going to be able to work together, after this, Mulder?" she asked, watching her hands nervously smooth the sheet over her legs. He moved slightly and she knew he was still uncomfortable.

"Yes." He answered immediately, stubbornly. "It may not be easy, but I don't want to lose you as a partner. Or a friend."

"If the Bureau finds out we're lovers, we'll be separated," she pointed out softly. "That's not a chance we can take. Not right now."

Mulder stood and paced restlessly, away and then back.

"Can we pretend this never happened?" Scully asked of no one in particular. Mulder looked at her.

"Can you?" he challenged.

"I don't know," she admitted. "Maybe. What about you?"

Mulder turned away with a mirthless smile. "Skinner already has a pretty good idea how I feel about you," he said cryptically. It took a few moments before Scully realized he was referring to when she was missing. She was no psychologist, but even she....

"Mulder?" she began, the idea still forming. "When you were studying psychology, did you learn hypnosis?"

"Some." He turned to look at her, frowning.

"Could you hypnotize me, and make me forget any of this happened?"

"Scully--" he began to protest, but she cut him off.

"Could you?" she insisted.

"I suppose," he finally admitted. "If you trust me enough to allow yourself to be hypnotized. You'd have to have some reasonable accounting for the time, though."

Scully looked up at him, her head tilted to one side just slightly as she thought. "Can you hypnotize yourself?"

"Sometimes," Mulder hedged. He knew where she was going with this now. It wasn't a bad idea, he thought. At least for her.

Scully crawled off the bed, tugging the T-shirt down around her thighs as she stood up. She walked straight to Mulder, ran one small hand up his chest to rest over his heart, and looked him in the eye. "I want to be your lover, Fox Mulder," she admitted baldly. "For this weekend, at least-- even if I have to forget it later-- I want you to be my lover."

Mulder knew she could feel his heart kick into overdrive. He couldn't think... "What about Skinner?" was all he could come up with.

"I'll tell him I've got the flu. The agent-- Santista, I think his name was-- that assisted me on that last autopsy in Maine had the flu, he had to go home early. It's entirely likely that he could have given it to me. I've got some time off due me, and you have tons. Skinner won't question us taking a few days. When it's time to go back, you'll hypnotize me, then yourself. We'll be back to where we were by the time we get back to DC."

Mulder's arms went around her. He couldn't say no. He wanted it too much.

Mulder got the cell phone out of the car for Scully before he left so she wouldn't have to get dressed. She was going to call Skinner, then take a shower. His first stop was at the motel office, where he told the clerk his partner had come down with the flu and paid the room up through the weekend. Then he took the car to fill the tank. He drove around the small town first to give Scully a little time alone and found, of all things, a tiny Chinese restaurant. Grinning to himself, he stopped to see if they did takeout. They did. Back at the convenience store across from the motel he bought pop, ice, some bottled water, another box of condoms, and a small assortment of non-perishable foods they could eat in the room in case they didn't venture out again until time to leave. Changing his mind at the last minute, he went back in and bought a bottle of wine. He was back at the door of the room after only forty-five minutes.

Scully was waiting for him. She'd taken a quick shower and put his shirt back on, along with a pair of her sweatpants, and her hair was damp-dry and curling. It always surprised him how curly her hair was when she didn't blow-dry it... A maid had come in, changed the sheets and left a good supply of towels. Scully admitted to hiding out in the bathroom --with the trash can of condom wrappers-- the entire time. She hadn't come out until the maid left

Mulder carried in his purchases then closed and locked the door, making sure the chain was fastened. He even went so far as to prop a chair beneath the doorknob. Then he turned to Scully, pulling her into his arms with a small growl. "Now you're mine."

                         ...xXx...xXx...xXx...

The weekend flew by far too fast. They stretched the nights as far as they could, making love and talking far into the morning hours, hating to waste any of this precious time together in sleep. For those fleeting hours alone together they forgot their jobs, their professional barriers, the rest of the world, and focused only on each other. But by Monday evening they both were worn out; physically, if not mentally, sated-- and they knew their stolen time was up. They had to sleep --they were starting to look as if they really *had* been ill-- and they needed to decide what they'd 'remember' about this weekend.

"Since I told Skinner I was sick, that's probably the most logical thing to have me remember," Scully decided. Mulder agreed. A bout of the fairly violent flu bug going around would also be convenient to explain any mysterious aches and pains she might experience in the next few days. 

They packed their things in preparation for the morning, Scully only reluctantly surrendering Mulder's T-shirt, then they got ready for bed and Scully set her travel alarm. He would hypnotize her first, Mulder told her, then himself. They would go to sleep in separate beds. When the alarm went off they'd wake in separate beds none the wiser. They'd shared a room once or twice before-- they wouldn't think anything of it.

Scully obediently got into bed when Mulder decided they couldn't put it off any longer. He tucked her in, then gave her one last, lingering kiss. It would have to hold him for a long time.

"Okay, Scully," he said softly at last. "Close your eyes and relax. I'm going to tell you to remember only that you were sick with the flu this weekend, and I took care of you when you needed it. You won't be surprised if you can't remember many details because you had a high temperature and slept a lot. Okay?" He waited until she nodded, then he began. She went under with gratifying quickness and accepted the suggestions easily. Mulder asked her to repeat everything, and she did. Then he told her to go to sleep, that when her alarm went off she would wake up remembering only what they'd agreed on. When he was satisfied that she was sleeping naturally and soundly, he turned off the lamp and retreated, sleepless and heartsick, to his own bed.

Hypnosis wasn't a permanent fix. Post-hypnotic suggestion could only conceal memories, not erase them. Someday, some little thing would trigger Scully's memory and she'd recall everything that had happened this weekend. He fervently hoped that day was a long way off, because when it happened she was going to realize he'd lied to her. 

Deliberately. 

He couldn't use self-hypnosis to forget, you see. It just wasn't *possible* for someone with total recall.

Their weekend together as lovers was something he would remember... forever.

                          The End (...maybe).

Melody  
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"Sometimes the road less traveled is less traveled for a reason."  
            --Jerry Seinfeld, "Seinfeld", NBC

Sounds like something Scully would say to Mulder, doesn't it?  
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End file.
